


The Man Who Can't Be Moved

by kimjungwuwu



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Doyoung - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, Short, dotae, kim doyoung - Freeform, lee taeyong - Freeform, nct - Freeform, nct 127, taeyong - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23569621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimjungwuwu/pseuds/kimjungwuwu
Summary: Where would you go to wait for someone who wasn’t coming back?Based on the song The Man Who Can’t Be Moved by The Script(a/n: listen to the song after reading!)
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	The Man Who Can't Be Moved

Doyoung hated Tuesdays. 

Not for any real reason anyone else could understand. They weren't Mondays, where he had the entire week ahead of him and too much work to do and too much time to waste until Friday. They weren't Sundays, where he would look back on the weekend and wish he'd done more than just cleaning his apartment and bingeing shows on Netflix. 

No, Tuesdays just really fucking sucked. 

Doyoung tightened his work bag around his shoulder as he walked down the sidewalk. People just like him rushed beside him, trying to get from one place to the other before the rain fell. Doyoung sighed as the first raindrop fell from the sky, hitting him nearly square in the forehead. 

Fuck it, he thought. The office can deal with a little water in the lobby. 

After nearly two years of the same routine, waking up, getting dressed, and walking to work, Doyoung would have thought that mornings would become easier to manage. Two years walking to and from the same law office, he had memorized the route, even timed it to where he could hit each crosswalk without being stopped. He could be in and out of his boss's favorite coffee shop, two americanos in hand, and through the front door of the office, exactly ten minutes after locking the door to his apartment. It was nearly a perfect walk. 

But even after two years, he still mistimed it every once in awhile. Sometimes, he got stopped on the corner of the street. 

He hadn't even made it to the coffee shop when the flow of bodies was halted before him, a flashing red sign in front of him telling him to stop on the corner of the sidewalk so cars could pass. The steady rain droplets turned into a light drizzle as the sky darkened before Doyoung's eyes. 

"Shit," he swore under his breath. He had reached into his bag for an umbrella, and he had found it to be missing. God, he hated Tuesdays. Doyoung scanned up and down the street, looking for a break in the traffic so that he might scurry across the road in a pinch. If there was one thing Doyoung hated more than Tuesdays, it was being late for work. 

His breath caught in the back of his throat when he realized the name of corner where he was stopped.

This is where I saw him the first time, he thought. 

Taeyong had left him on a Tuesday. 

Doyoung's mind wandered back to his first day on the job. He had been pushed by his best friend to apply to be an assistant to his father, one of Seoul's most prominent defense lawyers. 

"You're qualified, I promise you'll get the job if you just apply."

"I'm still in school, Taeil," Doyoung had argued. "I just don't have the time."

"But you're starting to take all online classes, right? You can make really good money with this. Plus, it's my dad. You're a shoe-in for it."

Doyoung laughed. "You know nepotism is illegal, right?"

But even against his better judgement, Doyoung still applied. And Taeil was right: after his interview the following week, his interviewer had told him that he was just the right fit. He was set to start the next day. 

To Doyoung, Thursdays were much better than Tuesdays. On a bright summer Thursday morning, Doyoung had left his apartment thirty minutes early to head to his new job, careful to leave time to find the correct building. He wasn't sure how a lawyer's assistant would dress, but he had picked his nicest dress shirt and slacks. He had wanted to make a good impression. Doyoung walked, half-jittery with excitement and half-terrified at meeting his employer and his new co-workers, when he had come to a stop at the corner of the street. The very same corner where he now stood. 

He hadn't noticed Taeyong at first. Doyoung's mind had reeled with a million thoughts that he just stared right ahead at the flashing red sign, waiting for it to turn green so he could continue on his walk. 

"Excuse me," Taeyong had said. Doyoung remembered not looking up until he had felt a light tap on his shoulder. When he did, he saw a man staring directly into his eyes, so much so that it was almost uncomfortable. 

"Sorry," said Doyoung, "Can I help you?"

"Oh, no," replied Taeyong. "I just wanted to ask if you knew your shirt was buttoned wrong." Doyoung had glanced down at his shirt, and he realized that he had accidentally missed a button, just as the stranger had said. 

Doyoung remembered feeling his cheeks go red and fumbling with the button until it was secured again. 

"Thank y-"

When Doyoung had turned back, the man was gone. He had regretted not catching his name, regretted acting so flustered in front of the handsome stranger. But it didn't matter; when he walked into the front door of the office, there was his stranger, sitting at the front desk. Doyoung remembered waiting for the man to finish a phone call, and feeling butterflies when he finally hung up. 

"Hi," Doyoung said. 

"I'm glad I told you about your shirt," said the man, smiling. Doyoung read the name 'Taeyong' written on a name tag on the pocket of his shirt. "You must be Mr. Moon's new assistant."

Doyoung said that he was, that he was happy to be there, and that he was thankful for Taeyong's help. 

It had only taken a week for Taeyong to ask Doyoung for his number. One week of seeing Doyoung walking in and out of the front doors for Taeyong to fall. But Doyoung remembered the road to loving Taeyong being a little bit longer. 

The red flashing sign turned green again, and Doyoung was able to continue on his way to work. It was now fully raining, his gray jacket dotted dark with drops of rain. Checking his watch, he had about three minutes to get to the office before he would be late. For some reason, Doyoung didn't care about being late. When he finally had made it to the coffee shop, he walked inside. He figured that if he was going to be late, he might as well walk in with coffee. 

As he stood in line, his mind wandered to Taeyong again. 

On their first date, Doyoung had taken him to a simple, casual restaurant. He remembered feeling like he would vomit the whole taxi ride there, for he didn't know how or why someone who looked like Taeyong could have any interest in someone so ordinary like himself. Because in any and every way, he thought Taeyong was extraordinary. When they walked inside the restaurant, they were seated quickly. Looking back, Doyoung could pick out the exact moment he knew that he was a goner. 

It was a quote Taeyong had said, one he had claimed to be his life's motto. They had just been going back and forth between one another, asking questions about themselves, when Taeyong had said it. 

"My life motto? It has to be this: 'You don't have to do anything extraordinary to matter. No matter what, you're worth remembering.'"

The quote itself was beautiful, but the way Taeyong had said it completely struck Doyoung. He had said it with an affirmation that Doyoung adored. He had loved the idea of knowing that no matter what he ended up deciding to do with his life, someone like Taeyong would remember him.

"Next, please," said the cashier. 

Doyoung walked to the front of the line and ordered two americanos. He paid, then moved to the side, bumping into someone's shoulder as he passed. 

"Sorry," said Doyoung, without looking back. 

As much as he was already hurting, he let his mind wander again as he waited for his drinks. 

Taeyong had moved in for the kiss first. Doyoung had offered to walk him back to his apartment, and Taeyong had leaned in just before he shut the door. Doyoung was never one to kiss after a first date, but something about this one felt like he had been waiting for it for his whole life. It didn't feel awkward or forced like many of his other partners' kisses had. Kissing Taeyong felt logical, like it was the only right thing to do. As easy as placing one foot in front of the other when he walked. 

When Doyoung had made it back to his own apartment, he shut and locked the door behind him, placing a finger to trace his lips. He had wondered why every kiss didn't feel that way. 

"Doyoung!"

The barista had called his name, placing two steaming drinks on the counter in front of him. 

"Thank you," said Doyoung, giving a slight bow of his head. 

Outside, the rain had escalated into a storm. There was no avoiding the rain, so Doyoung braced himself as he opened the door. Luckily, the office was just down the road. As the bitter cold rain pelted him from all sides, he felt warmth as he thought of his Taeyong. 

He remembered smiling whenever he saw Taeyong at the desk every morning. Though they didn't see each other often throughout the work day, Doyoung remembered the little things Taeyong would do just to remind him that he was there. Leaving notes with funny jokes on Doyoung's desk, always having his favorite snack ready whenever he was on a break, a knowing smile whenever their paths did cross. Doyoung remembered feeling safe with Taeyong, feeling like home. 

He finally made it to the office, but he was dripping wet with rain. Doyoung opened the door and entered quickly, letting his clothes drip onto the doormat. 

"Good morning, Doyoung."

Jisoo sat at the front desk, viciously typing away at something on the monitor in front of her. She didn't look up, but Doyoung judged that by the look on her face, she was annoyed with him for bringing the rain inside. 

And for being late. 

"Morning," said Doyoung. He walked past her and went straight for his boss's office. When he approached the closed door, there was a small sign hung on the doorknob. In plain white letters it read, "DO NOT DISTURB."

Doyoung moved to his own desk, setting the wet coffee cups on the wood, and sat in his chair. He didn't care that his clothes soaked through the black leather. Doyoung propped his elbows up on the desk and buried his face in his hands. 

He remembered the first time they had slept together. They had been tipsy over cheap wine, and it had been gloriously and hilariously messy. It hadn't been the first time Doyoung had sex, but even drunk, Doyoung remembered wishing for Taeyong to be his last. The sound of his voice still rung in his ears. 

"You're worth remembering, Doie," he had said. 

When it was all over, Taeyong had promptly fallen asleep in Doyoung's bed, his arm wrapped sweetly over Doyoung's chest. He had looked like an angel in his sleep, breathing softly as his head rested in the crook of Doyoung's neck. Doyoung remembered whispering something to him before he had fallen asleep himself. 

"I love you."

Mr. Moon opened his door abruptly, causing Doyoung to jump. 

"You're late. Again," said the lawyer. 

"I'm so sorry-"

Mr. Moon held up a hand, signaling for Doyoung to stop talking. 

"Doyoung. We've discussed this. You're normally never late. Hell, I've boasted you to my colleagues about how un-late you always are. But now you're suddenly late three times in a month?"

"Sir, I'm so sorry," was all Doyoung could muster. 

"You look like hell," said Mr. Moon. "Why don't you take an off day? There isn't much going on around here today anyway. Go home and get some rest."

"I"m fine, really."

"That wasn't a quesion," commanded Mr. Moon. Without another word, the lawyer retreated into his office, shutting the door with a loud thud. 

Defeated, Doyoung gathered his things and stood from his chair. He walked away from his desk, leaving the two cups of coffee untouched. He walked out of the office and into the rain with his heart feeling like it was being tugged inside his chest. 

It was all because of that goddamned corner, thought Doyoung. If he hadn't gotten stopped that morning, everything would be normal. 

Doyoung had long since stopped wondering where things had gone wrong. He figured it was probably a twisted combination of many things: the love growing cold, losing track of time with his job and school, his temper growing shorter and Taeyong's patience wearing thin. But even so, Doyoung didn't remember the final straw that caused Taeyong to have had enough. How long had it been again? Maybe a month? Doyoung didn't remember. 

If he hadn't met him on the corner, he wouldn't have to fall out of love with the love of his life. 

He crossed the street at the ill-fated corner, then stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Doyoung let the rain fall sickeningly onto his head. On the wall situated peacefully away from the street, there was a dated bench perched under a short awning, the dark green paint chipping away on the wood. Doyoung sat down, staring into the road. 

Maybe if I wait here I'll see him. Maybe he'll come back here. It's where I would go, he thought. The corner where I fell in love. 

Doyoung sat there all day, scanning the faces in the crowd to see if Taeyong's would appear. Through the rainfall and the tears that streamed slowly down his face, the world became a soft blur of gray. He had lost track of how many hours he had been sitting there when a mixture of Doyoung's sadness and exhaustion caused him to doze off. 

He was shaken awake by a police officer. Doyoung jumped, shocked that it was now dark outside. 

"Hey!" he exclaimed. 

"Sir," said the police officer. "Do you know what time it is?"

Doyoung wiped away at his face, still wet from the rain. His watch read 01:23.

"You can't be sleeping right here," said the officer. 

"Right. Sorry, sir."

The officer walked away, offering Doyoung a stern look over his shoulder.

Doyoung stood from the bench. Here and there, a couple of passersby walked past him, looking at him curiously. He was soaked to the bone with rain. Doyoung brushed the wet hairs out from his face and rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust them to the darkness. A streetlight offered a small sliver of light where he stood. He wanted to disappear into the rain, his cheeks burned with humiliation. Doyoung felt someone's eyes staring intently at him as they walked past. He found the person, a man, walking with his head down as if to try to hide himself from the rain. Doyoung's heart raced. He almost looked like-

No, thought Doyoung. That's ridiculous. This is ridiculous. 

He started for home again. As he walked, he didn't feel a single drop of rain hit his body. Doyoung felt a fresh wave of tears welling deep within his chest again. He felt kind eyes looking at him like he was the sun, and he felt warm lips pressing against his own. He felt small hands tracing his skin. He felt the feeling of being loved.

He felt like he'd lost him all over again. 

Fuck, Doyoung hated Tuesdays.


End file.
